Genderbendery

Sir has been throwing ideas at me since I earned my collar.

You should take up bellydancing. Or burlesque. Try packing. Or hunting.

I’m still working on Raven’s Own, even expanding its show schedule a little this year and planning/doing a few more ambitious projects. Tafat n Kahina goes right along with it. I’m not allowed to give those up, and we can’t afford for me to give up my day job. And I can’t tell you how many projects I have to do around the house – fixing the septic lid, fixing the toilet, digging and planting the bee garden, building the food gardens, building the patio wall in the front. (Don’t misunderstand: Kitten does help and is really really good at what he knows, but he’s got a black thumb and isn’t really the handyman in this relationship. He is, however, the better cook.)

Oh, and mowing the lawn. Although I enjoy mowing, too.

You should teach a class. Maybe teach two classes. Hey, those clothes look good. Maybe you should mix music.

My dysthymia and social spoons have been in havoc for at least a year. But Sir keeps throwing ideas at me.

Go back to yoga. Pegging could be cool. Or kickboxing.

Throw enough ideas, Kitten says, and something is bound to stick.

Maybe drag kinging.

SPLAT.

Cue a 24-hour frenzy of research, YouTube videos, Pinterest pins, articles, supply resources, and even lip-sync playlists.

This is certainly not the first time it’s crossed my mind. I’ve considered packing for years. I have occasionally peeked at the DC Kings‘ website, and am now a bit pissed that I missed seeing them perform (the troupe retired in 2015 and left their website/social media up as resources and history, bless them). I’m rather content to be biologically female, but there is a part of me that craves a bit of genderfuckery. And Sir, for His part, has no objection to me doing so – in fact, would encourage it, especially as it would fit beautifully into my requirement of representing Him. He might even let me cut my hair for more than maintenance, for the first time in six years, if it’s for kinging purposes.

Oh, and spending several hours turned on at the thought of having a packer in place is no indicator at all. Because I need more projects/ideas/things to do/holes in my head. </sarcasm>

Featured image is of Landon Cider.

Little Hands.

During the late winter, when Cernunnos is a child, my connection with Him is still somewhat shaky. There’s an occasional laugh, or the flash of a child’s face in my mind. Otherwise, direct communication has been extremely rare, and I don’t push for it.

The new-to-me length of His childhood (extended from three to six months) and my growing need for Him has prompted a change. This winter, I’ve been reaching out more. It’s all young sounds and feelings – never more than a five or six-year-old – but I’ve been wondering if maybe that’s needed. I keep forgetting the childlike aspect that always kept me in wonder at a sky full of stars, or finding shapes in the clouds, or jumping in puddles of water because splashing is fun. There’s been nothing concrete, but the contact has been there, and stronger than last winter.

Last night, I got a surprise.

Kit and I had just had some rough-and-tumble, and I, during conversation afterwards, described myself as a “cat in heat.” While Kit agreed, Someone Else didn’t.

Little hands touched my spine, right between my shoulder blades. There was a disapproving feeling, like a young child frowning, and a clear, young voice rang in my head.

Little bird!

Apparently He didn’t like me describing myself as anything else. 🙂

A few Imbolc notes.

First, Blessed Imbolc! Sir is back; my head is swimming a bit, but I’m so happy to have Him back. Kit and I have an amazing feast planned and are otherwise doing some cleaning up and refreshing of altars and such.

In the meantime… the next phase of my life changing drastically begins today. Sir has stated that I must try to make Raven’s Own and her sister projects my full time work – meaning I must quit my day job. However, I cannot, for the sake of my family, simply stop the flow of income I am currently getting from my day job – and that He understands. So today, I have started a fundraiser on Indiegogo to help raise one year’s worth of funds. If I meet my goal, I will quit my job in June and put my focus on the Work He has in store for me – including Raven’s Own, Tafat n Kahina, and more. If you can help, there are some lovely perks, from the $10 level on up, and every little bit helps.

Meanwhile, in even lovelier news, my dear friend Irene over at Pink Pagan Priestess has released a wonderful gift for everyone – a new five-song EP from her Pagan folk side project, Imbolc Fire. It features two members of her metal band – drummer (and husband) Jay Jericho and lead guitarist Chris Kackley – and is gorgeous. (My Kit and I contributed to the last track as well – that was a lot of fun!) So pop over to Imbolc Fire to download “Drum and Chalice” for free! (A donation is appreciated, but not required.)

Blessed day, all. I’m gonna go rest up before the cooking storm begins!

“Up and down…”

Up and down, up and down,
I will lead them up and down:
I am fear’d in field and town:
Goblin, lead them up and down.
– Puck, Midsummer Night’s Dream, III,2,1454

While I am blessedly free of Puck himself at the moment (especially as most of the Folk are currently slow and sleepy), my life has been very up and down. Lots of good, and enough AARGH to balance it out.

Let me get the growl-worthy bitching out of the way. First and foremost, as I’ve been whinging about for a month: Sir is not here and I miss Him. My day job? Making me bonkers; I’m so ready to get the fuck out of here. A few things have conspired to frustrate me where our favorite events for next year are concerned. Our youngest’s grades are way less than stellar, and helping him fix it is more complicated than it could otherwise be because of his personal history. There are piles around the house that need to be addressed – papers, laundry, and other bits and pieces that really should have a place. I’ve got friends and family going through medical crises that have my worry going ZOOM. Our dresser is broken, the fridge is leaking, the dishwasher is broken, and the garbage disposal is busted. It’s the holidays, which is ALWAYS stressful, and I haven’t even gotten to storage to get the decorations (which I dearly want to get up this year, because DAMMIT IT’S THE HOLIDAYS). Life has got me scurrying about like mad, and all I want to do is be a cave troll and collect myself.

So I’m tired. Very tired. I want to curl up and rest in my little hidey-hole cave.

But. But.

I’ve got a lot of happiness crowding up on that whole paragraph of WHINE to say, “This is manageable. Your life doesn’t suck. And you’ll get through.”

First: Sir is reborn in two weeks, and I get to watch Him grow until He comes back to me on February 2nd. Meanwhile, I have other guides and deities who have blessedly filled the space He left, keeping me company and offering me guidance. I have a job – which not everyone does – that helps pay the bills while we get our businesses established. The majority of the scurrying is positive – time with friends and family and delightful little trips. There are a number of other events coming up that are awesomely interesting and have the potential to help our businesses grow. Our oldest has had a good opportunity come his way; our middle child seems to be content and even almost thriving; and our youngest is otherwise healthy and well-adjusted. There is stuff I can do to help with the medical crises, and some of those crises have recently passed with good results. The fridge, dishwasher, and garbage disposal can be fixed by our apartment management, at no cost to us. Our businesses are starting to get positive attention and the gap between spending and earning is slowly closing. It’s the holidays, which means eggnog and twinkly lights and good smells and lots of smiles. Our home is warm, lived-in, comfortable, and it’s HOME. I have some good family, a whole massive bucketload of amazing friends, and the very best ever spouse in the world (even if he doesn’t think so) who is patient and funny and an awesome cook and lovely and really good at snuggles.

Up and down, up and down. Life is full of frustrations right now, but they are helping me to count my joys, and to revel in them, and my joys are helping me cope with my frustrations.

Up and down, up and down. Life, come lead me up and down.

Simplification

What do you need?

For the past few years, Kit and I have been talking about our dream home. It’s not the simplest of dreams, and we’re not in a position to fulfill it yet, but we still dream. It’s a pretty common dream – a home of our own.

But what kind of home?

A coworker of mine once said his dream retirement home was 8,000 square feet. For him and his wife. And most of the rooms would be shut up when not in use.

That’s the size of a small store. That’s ten times larger than my first apartment. Eight thousand.

Why?

The size of the average single family home in the United States has risen dramatically in the past few decades. My childhood home, built in 1955, is a three-bedroom rambler of just over 1,600 square feet. For the majority of my life, it housed two adults, two children, a large dog, three cats, a fish tank, and a hermit crab tank. A similar family – if not smaller – now tends to live in 2,500 square feet or more (if they can afford a house at all).

Why?

“Bigger is better,” says the American ideal. Bigger food. Bigger cars. Bigger houses. Bigger us.

That’s not my dream. That not Kit’s dream. And it’s not realistic.

Could I use every room in a larger house? Sure. I could figure out a use. But would I be happy with it? I don’t think I would.

So what do we need?

By the time we get to building or buying a house, it will be just Kit and me. We want to enjoy our time, not spend it cleaning or maintaining a house we can’t afford. So we’re looking at tiny homes.

When we say tiny, we mean tiny. Short term, we’d love to pick up the towable Fencl from Tumbleweed Tiny House Company. That is 130 square feet – very small indeed. In the long run, we’d love a piece of property with a little acreage to build the Sebastarosa – probably the 3-bedroom model so that we can have a ground-floor bedroom. The plan would be to live in the Fencl while the Sebastarosa was being built, and keep the smaller one for travel or guests.

Total, the two spaces would be 977 square feet. That’s smaller than the apartment we live in now, and less than half the size of the standard American home. Moving from where we are now to one of the two – especially the Fencl – would be a massive change of lifestyle. We would have to figure out what we need.

So. What do we need?

It’s not a question we can answer right now. There are things we’re already doing to try and pare down, and more planned. A family of four who doesn’t entertain does not need multiple plate and silverware sets. We do need altar space, even if it’s small. It’s likely that we won’t need the numerous gaming consoles we have in the living room, or the large flat-screen, or two large couches. And I sincerely doubt we’ll need drawers and drawers of clothing. In the next five to ten years, I hope we can pare down to live comfortably enough in 130 square feet that, when it’s time to move into the larger home, we won’t know what to do with the space.

This is all still a dream. But it does us good to pare down anyway. It’s friendly and less stressful. Himself likes the idea rather a lot. And it means we’re taking steps to keep that dream alive.

What do you need?

Musical Fun

Silly thought came to mind while having dinner tonight, mainly because the local CalTort plays music from the 70’s and 80’s. Kit sits there and says, for nearly every song, “Ye gods, I haven’t heard this one in forever.” Half the time I have to ask him who it is, because they play some pretty awesomely obscure stuff.

But it got me thinking: There are people who I would have loved to see perform, but they’re either honest-to-goodness retired (as opposed to Billy Joel retired – oops, new tour, gotta pay for rehab*) or passed away. Who are they? And why would I have loved to see them live?

Victor Borge: First. Very first. I grew up watching his comedy and virtuosity. He had such a way with languages – his own and any other – and I can quote his “Phonetic Punctuation” skit almost verbatim. He performed with Robert Merrill, Marilyn Mulvey, Dean Martin, Leonid Hambro, Sahan Arzruni, and Rowlf the Dog. His 1989 version of Clair de Lune is the first I ever heard, still my very favorite. Borge introduced me to classical music and opera, made it approachable, and made it fun. I was in London when I got the news that he had died, and he is the only performer that I ever truly mourned.

Édith Piaf: A popular French singer who discovered one of my other current favorites (Charles Aznavour). She had a trill, a depth, and a heartache to her voice that one can hear even through the tinny recordings of her early career. Her life was hard from the start and she never let it get easier for herself; her songs expressed it. To see her live would have been an experience.

Ray Charles: The man was a performer to the bone. I love his music, and whenever I saw video of his performances, he looked like he was enjoying the hell out of himself. That makes a great show I would have loved to see.

Liberace: Mainly because I’ve heard he was a fantastic pianist, and a stunning performer.

Cab Calloway: Because “Minnie the Moocher” live would have been an absolute thrill.

There are more, but it’s after midnight and Someone just reminded me it’s time to wash up… 🙂

So who would you have loved to see live? And why?

*Love Billy Joel’s music, but let’s call a spade a spade. 🙂

Silly asides

I thought of a couple of silly bits yesterday that I figured I’d share here. Yanno, just ’cause it’s a day ending in Y.

  • My dear friend Del sent me a note about something the other day, with an interesting message from Himself: “She is in service to [M]e, and Beltane is the celebration of Our Most Holy Union, and [s]he carries that energy within her.”I immediately facepalmed. Have I mentioned that I was born on Beltane? I knew that would get me in trouble someday. 😛
  • I received some lovely compliments on yesterday’s entry, which got me thinking. Have I ever mentioned here that I occasionally write fan-fiction? Have for almost twenty years now (and considering I’m only 28, that’ll tell you something). That fiction has often included LOTS OF SEX. Which I started writing when I was 12 (the sex part, that is). I might have gotten a little good at it… >:)
  • And speaking of yesterday’s entry… it was as hot at the time as it sounded. WOOF. *fans self* And my new 24/7 collar – which I was able to finish and start wearing yesterday – constantly reminds me of it.Aaaaand He’s grinning at me. 😛